Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1887-05-26
One Dollar Per Year.

udlH W hlfOM tldO niiitC oiii
calmly under my roof-tree, as / heard =
man call it once, you are showing up
those old frauds like Julius Caesar and
Hamlet and Portcullis and Andronicus
and Mrs. Potiphar and other people
who have become historical.
While other people are frittering
away their time talking about highway
tax and boards of health and all such
stuff as that you are making a red-hot
paper of to-day; paper that fairly
boils over with your honest convictions
about the political aspect at the time
that Caesar took charge of the tribune;
a paper that shows the average reader
that you are smart, whether you give
them the kind of stuff they want or not.
That was my idea when / sent you
away to that female seminary, or
whatever it was, where you went to
get educated. wanted you to come
out with whole lot of thoughts that
showed right on their face that they
were expensive. l wanted you to be
able to tell down at the store how
much A, b and G would each have to
grind off a circular grindstone four
feet three and one-half inches in
diameter, with a square hole in the
center three and one-fourth inches
each way, provided A pays one-sixth
of the price of the stone, B one-half,
and G the balance, with the understand
ing that G shall use five per cent> more
than his share, provided he will turn
the grind-stone. / wanted you to be
able to talk with foreigners in their
own native tongue the darkest night
that ever blew. l desired that you
might become man who could walk
up to an Italian as he plays his organ
voluntary beneath your easement, and
tell him in his own musical alarm
clock language what you think of him.
So lit pleases me to know that you
are printing paper now, so you can
show off to advantage what l have in
vested in you.
Press right on. Keep writing up
these over-estimated men like Moses,
and do not care what you say pro-
vided you rise rapidly yourself, even
if you do so upon The wreck and ruin
of such men as Demosthenes and other
people whom you will, no doubt, show
up before you get through.
Ihope you will lead up to Colum-
bus and Patrick Henry in time to get
through with them little ahead of the
sheriff.
After awhile I want to write little
article for your paper, not so much for
the purpose of saying any thing, but in
order to show the contrast between the
polished work of well-educated, smart
young man and the crude efforts of a
plain man who is entirely untitled for
every thing except paternal purposes.
We are having good time here in
the South, enjoying the climate and
making experiments with the butter
which is produced here.
As warm weather approaches the
mountain butter of North Carolina is
getting its hair cut short, and can
truthfully say, Henry, that, although
| am no eplcure as a general rule, i
have had my palate tickled more since
| came here than ever did before.
Butter made in the Businesses of the
hills in Buncombe County is mostly
of pale pearl gray, with PIN
stripe in it of ultra-marine. This does
not look badly, and it sets off hoe
cake first-rate.
This butter is not eaten by the peo-
people who manufacture it. They are
poor sometimes, and have to eat most
any thing that will sustain life, but they
draw the line at this butter.
They know how it is prepared.
Invent out into the brush last week
to buy a load of wood, and / took tea
with gentleman who lives in an
open-face cottage on the other side of
the mountains. l then discovered
that these people dc not eat their own
butter.
did not notice any butter, but they
had gravy as a substitute for it. Corn
dodger in and of itself will not melt in
the mouth, so / looked around for q
means of lubricating my own. At that
time the warm-hearted and hospitable
host made the following remark:
stranger, you mustn't be squeamish.
Just waller yer dodger in the dope.
That's the way we do
then proceeded to waller. Bill Nye,